monastic-like chanting is fun!!!

let me start by stating that i want to live in vermont... well, i guess that all hangs on me actually not being poor [which, by the way, would be a welcome change from my present state] and actually having employment [see the above not on welcome changes]. since this question has been presented to me by almost everyone since my return, i thought i'd throw this lil' note in: my schedule didn't facilitate time for snowboarding - much to my dismay - but my take on it is that it just gives me an excuse for going back, as it has been much too long since i last snowboarded and i miss it terribly.

the visit went well and my readers will be happy to know that i kept my idiotic behavior to an absolute minimum - this includes, but is not limited to: 1] cursing in inappropriate places/situations, 2] falling down/up stairs, 3] tripping over absolutely nothing and landing squarely on my ass or face, 4] making silly faces at people for no apparent reason, 5] belching as loudly as possible for no apparent reason whatsoever, 6] i could go on like this forever, but i hope that you get my point.

i was actually dressed like a normal person for the majority of the trip [i.e. not in clothes that i 1] got for free at some jr's-related event, 2] picked up at cheap thrills, 3] poured concrete in, etc.] - thank you banana republic for making decent-looking clothes that actually fit me. on my last day, however, i participated in several presentations where i was - again - dressed like a normal person [i guess that this really equates to a business-type attire and high heels, since i am vertically challenged... therefore, utter discomfort for yours truly], but after my final presentation, i quickly changed into jeans and a t-shirt... i was highly amused when, while asking for the whereabouts of the person who was to drive me to the airport, the department secretary didn't recognize me. this happened again, jokingly, when i went to have lunch before departing... i really don't think that i looked that different, but i guess that it was a fairly abrupt change.

after some anxiety that i wouldn't be able to get back to fayetteville due to snow, i finally got home... just in time for this weekend's baseball series against mississippi state... put it this way: the hogs have not had the best of weekends. this is surprising, considering their record for this season... you win some, you lose some, i guess. i just hope that we pound the living daylights out of the 'bulldogs' this afternoon... not so much to 'salvage what's left of the series,' as to shut the mississippi state fans up. i have never, in all my life, had the displeasure of being in the company of such rude and annoying fans. example: during friday night's game, chris and i ended up directly in front of this really weird mississippi state fan. he grunted a lot, paced back and forth while grunting a lot, kept announcing either a strike or a ball at the top of his lungs every time the pitch result was posted on the scoreboard, kept mumbling under his breath [which was very creepy, i might add], and would throw hissy fits every time the razorbacks either got a hit or a run... or a walk [since we did earn a lot of those on friday] - he sounded a lot like the people on the 'goobacks' episode of south park... 'they took our jobs' ... 'dur dur dur'.

on saturday, chris and i had the pleasure of sitting in front of one of the largest people i have ever laid eyes on... a mississippi state fan that insisted on chanting some ridiculous nonsense about getting a basehit in this weird rhythmic chanting style... EVERY SINGLE TIME A PLAYER FROM MISSISSIPPI STATE WAS UP TO BAT. oh, and that's not all... said fan also chanted in the same style during OUR at bats... something about holding us at bay or some such nonsense... anyway, you get my drift, i hope...

tah tah for now... go hogs

peanuts are neither peas nor nuts... discuss.

i am becoming increasingly nervous... tomorrow, i will be on my way to vermont to do my first naab accreditation visit at norwich university... i am nervous because i will 1] be the only student on this accreditation team [yes, they do it in teams of four... with one student member representing the aias on each team] and 2] i will be the only person on the team who hasn't done an accreditation visit before. not to even mention that the other members of the team are - you know - heads of departments of architecture or deans of architecture schools at major universities... yeah, no pressure whatsoever. none. i guess i just have to hope that i can keep myself from looking like an idiot for six days - mind you, this will be a very challenging task for me, as i make a very good habit of making myself look like a moron on a daily basis. blah blah blah.

tah tah for now kiddies... this one must get her ass out of bed at 5am tomorrow in order to make her flight[s]...

this one's for the gentleman in the... um... beer.

it's story time here at idontliketowearshoes. this one's called 'eager little booger'... you know? booger from 'revenge of the nerds?' yeah, so... at the french kicks and calla show last night at jr's, there was this really enthusiastic little version of booger from 'revenge of the nerds' standing right in front of the stage, just staring, bug-eyed, at the band while he over-zealously rocked out to the music... i had the fortune of getting a clear view [a rarity, due to my vertically-challenged stature] from the side of the stage to our dear little booger.

have you ever been to an event - specifically a concert - that you just didn't want to end? where the music touches some nerve deep down inside of you that causes sincere delight? but once you think about the fact that it will eventually end, you can't get the thought of said conclusion of delightful event out of your mind, so you try and try and try to enjoy the show as much as is humanly possible? that was what little booger was like. smoking his cigarette in quick, intense little drags. shaking his head back and forth to the beat of the drums. shuffling from side to side on his heals like a little hipster from the inability to stand still during such a rhythmic explosion. once in a while, checking to make sure that his hair was still carefully disheveled.

i couldn't help but smile when i thought about what was probably going through his mind... it just makes me happy to see other people so overwhelmingly content [unless, that is, they are vindictive, evil people... then i glare very intimidatingly at them if they show signs of happiness... because their happiness normally means utter misery for some other [normally] innocent party]. if everyone could enjoy music/be passionate about music the way that little booger was about the french kicks and calla, the world would probably be a much better place...

bwautle 'em

this evening/morning/night/whatever, i am an insomniac by choice... well, no - not by choice at all... chrunch time for critiques has bled over into what should be my 'me time' [which is normally consumed with sleep... oh that bless'ed sleep]. i've realized that it's one thing to just stay up... it can actually be fun when you chose to stay up late/not sleep at all. it is, however, a completely different thing if you're staying up because you have shit to do - this is when your body decides that it hates you with a fiery passion and hides all of its energy so you feel like a zombie and it makes your eyelids very very heavy... all of this just to punish you for staying up late to get your crap finished.

on this subject of getting crap done: why is it that the weather is shit until you are required to remain inside in a room without windows to get work done? ... actually, i guess it would be worse to have to stare straight into paradisical weather while trapped inside your task box... i only say this because - once again - i was relegated to the basement of jolly old vol walker hall in a room without windows [well, there are actually two windows, but they afford no view or any real access to the 'outside world'] on a sunny, eighty-degree, cloudless day... damnit. i guess i'll just have to hope that by some providence, tuesday will be lovely... i might actually have a rare moment of free time to go lie around in the grass or some such silly nonsense... i can't bloody wait. this anticipation is made even more prevalent because tomorrow - all day tomorrow - will be filled with reviews [from 9am until 11pm with two very small breaks for sustenance... la dee friggin' dah]... but i guess that one should expect to have an anxious wait for anything that is worthwhile.

... at least i'll just keep telling myself that.

think spatially and stuff...

there was a comment made in my class yesterday evening that i found somewhat perplexing: some people just don't think spatially. is that kind of like colorblindness? i mean, i'm not talking about lack of depth perception, because i know that that is an actual medical condition... but do some people actually not understand space? see spatial qualities in, say, a rothko painting? maybe i'm being stupid/naive/daft, but i just can't imagine not perceiving space in two-dimensional media and the like...

please, whatever you do, do NOT super size me.

i never want to eat fast food ever ever ever again. i had the distinct pleasure of watching super size me last night... i guess the part that was most disturbing was the orthoscopic view inside the torso of an obese man during stomach stapling surgery. i had the added pleasure during that particular 'skit' to have chris leaning over and pointing at the screen, saying, 'did you see all of that fat? no, the yellow globules... yeah... look at all of the fat.' mind you, this was in the middle of dinner. well, it was in the middle of what was supposed to be dinner - i had lost my appetite so thoroughly that i couldn't even finish my beer... yes, it's true... i left a 'wounded soldier' behind [insert fake tear and move on...]

so, in the theme of super size me, here's a tasty nugget for everyone [being the five people who actually read my babble...] to chew on: you would have to walk for seven hours straight to burn off a super sized coke, fry and big mac.

to my dearest monday -

monday -

i wake up every week with such hopes for a wonderful start and you dash those hopes - nearly without fail - every week. why do you have to be so horrible to so many people? is there some sort of bribe/fee/donation that people at large are supposed to be paying you to ensure an absence of black mondays? or do you simply prefer human sacrifice? would that cure your bloodlust and maybe make you more tolerable? or are you really female and in a permanent state of horribly venomous pms? this, i could at least sympathize with - considering that i am a woman as well - because i can feel your pain...

if there is, however, some other reason - some vindictive plot to ruin the start of everyone's week just for your own sick pleasure, i will just continue to hate you... you will leave me no choice but to do so.

i've been relegated to the basement on another beautiful day...

why is it that, in a bar stock full of pacifists, people find the need to be hostile and aggressive? all of this pent-up aggression... what happened to doing things like jogging [or yogging... i'm not sure if the 'j' is soft or not...], meditating, boxing, what-have-you to get all of that bottled up hostility out? and it's even more offensive when said aggression-venter has an accent like boonhower on king of the hill and a mullet...

but i digress...

the aforementioned pacifists were extraordinarily entertaining at jr's last night... belting out-of-tune and off-time renditions of 'we're all members of a fucked up world' [by the killers, i think] at the tops of their lungs and shakin' some booty to the wonderful tunes from the jukebox... and lighting things on fire in ashtrays... ahhhh... ain't life just grand, though, when you can bear witness to twenty- and thirty-somethings acting like really happy children?

this is the big one, people...

woo. 5000 hits on my dinky little blog. it's no big deal compared to most people, but it's fan-bloody-tastic to me. woo. thank you for stopping by... y'all come back now. ya hear?

ladies and gentlemen. i present de-motivation at its finest

no, really, it's not that i don't want to do all of the crap that i have to do; it's just that there's so much of it. where in hell is a girl supposed to start? first, there's the organizing that has to happen sometime [yes, i am a bit of a slob... but only because i have no actual time to put stuff back where it goes... blah blah blah]. then there's the finding funding bit. being broke is absolutely no fun... i can't even say that it's because i'm a starving artist or any of that romantic crap... i'm just in college. la dee freaking dah. then there's the whole catching-up-from-when-i-was-sick-bit... yeah... still am not caught up on all of the school crap that i have to do/was supposed to do. then there's the whole exercising bit. fat freaking chance i'll have time to do that. bah. i laugh at you, exercise. ha ha ha. then, there's the whole find-my-sanity-because-its-gone-missing-bit... hopefully, no explanation is needed for that one, it should be pretty straight forward. then there's the whole do laundry, finish a painting that i have no idea what to do with, come up with something brilliant to say during my discussion group this evening, read the 200 page book that i'm supposed to finish before this weekend, design a website, finish a project on the laser cutter, [can we tell that i'm over-loading myself here?... just checking...]. but i will find time to make myself that phish food milkshake, damnit... if it's the last thing i do.

milkshake.

ice cream has this amazing power of being totally addictive. it's like chocolate in that respect... only softer and colder. to confirm that you are hopelessly addicted to the stuff, you must crave it... i'm not talking about just wanting the ice cream. one must have insatiable cravings for it. any form of ice cream will do - milkshakes, malts, floats, concretes, sundaes, ice cream sandwiches, ice cream cones, ice cream cake [a personal favorite - though completely sinful], gelato [though not technically ice cream, you get my drift], just plain ice cream...

why is it though that i only seem to really crave the stuff when it's bloody freezing outside? it's like my habit of chewing ice... the colder i/it gets, the more i do it. i've been sitting in studio all day, it's 40 degrees outside with a biting wind and i can think of nothing but ice cream. i want a ben & jerry's phish food milkshake... as of now, i've never had a ben & jerry's phish food milkshake, but i love ben & jerry's phish food and i love milkshakes... so why the hell not? [and no, this isn't like the whole 'i love pickles and i love peanut butter so why shouldn't i combine them' thing... phish food and milkshake are quite compatible...]